


There's catastrophe in everything I'm touching

by fvartoxin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Holy Musical B@man - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Freeze is a sub and I will die on this bizarrely specific hill, Gay Sex, Listen body worship is HARD when most of your nerve endings are dead, M/M, Mostly because were it graphic Victor would be DEAD., Was wondering why my computer ran out of memory but then it hit me. I spent 9 hours straight on this, eldritch sex but not as graphic as it could be, this was exactly 1600 words before A03 went and added random spacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28700472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvartoxin/pseuds/fvartoxin
Summary: Are you ever plagued by weirdly specific visions at 3 AM when you can't sleep? Yeah. This is the result of one of such visions. Enjoy, or don't. It's up to you, and I certainly won't get mad if you don't like it.+ tagged with Holy Musical B@man! because it deals with my main AU, which is already an alternate universe of an alternate universe to begin with. Hence Basil existing, Victor being half Russian Jewish, half Danish ethnically, my Selina Kyle being a transgender woman, etc. I just keep forgetting the alternate universe tags on these things.
Relationships: Clayface & Victor Fries, Victor Fries/Basil Karlo





	There's catastrophe in everything I'm touching

**Author's Note:**

> "What the fuck is wrong with you, my guy?", you ask? A lot of things. But let's not delude ourselves; I wrote this for fun and partially out of boredom, and there's much worse under the Mr. Freeze tag on A03 alone unless certain people have elected to delete their work.

Patience was a virtue that, on occasion, Basil Karlo did not possess. It certainly wasn’t in his repertoire now as he snaked a lubed tendril of flesh down into the other metahuman’s metal shell of a suit, plunging deeper and deeper until-

He couldn’t see it, and he certainly couldn’t feel the added pressure on his limb, but there was the faint sound of overworked pistons; and then Victor had stepped forward, one arm closing forcefully around the root of the tendril. “If this is to happen,” he finally spoke, somewhat stiffly. “I do not wish to make a mess of this suit. I believe you know as well as I do that this is something which cannot be dry-cleaned.” 

At least Victor wasn’t totally being resistant. Sure, they’d likely both regret it on some level; later when they were more coherent and not pawing at each other in a dead tired stupor. But for now, all that stood between him and the literal sole person he’d grown to care for was cold metal. Hesitantly Basil withdrew, blind eyes boring into Victor’s body as he shed his suit, letting it slump off to the side. There was an unpleasant burning in his misfiring nerves, but for now he simply tamped it down. Waiting a few more minutes was perfectly doable. Probably. He _did_ try, Mother didn’t attempt to raise a gentleman for no reason. 

And then he was freed, the harsh basement lighting above them creating deep shadows in the hollows of his silvery gray skin. He laid a hand on what passed for the shapeshifter’s lower jaw, feeling what bit of bone lay beneath shift expectantly at his touch. They stayed like that for some time, Victor silently gauging whether his highly temperature-sensitive body would handle something prolonged. The room was cold enough, so perhaps…? And it wasn’t as if Basil _wouldn’t_ stop if it was requested of him. They were both playing with fire, but for a moment he was completely enveloped in foreign warmth, and it seemed to skip their minds. 

Thank God above for lubricants; though, wary of his biohazardous self’s occasional secretions he’d used around half a bottle of the store-bought/stolen variety. Then he switched his attention to the other man’s sparsely-clothed shoulders and back, attacking knots in the muscle with as much gentleness as someone with mostly dead nerve endings could muster. (Which, frustratingly, wasn’t as much as anyone deserved. Let alone Victor Fries.) 

This didn’t go unappreciated; in fact, it earned him a shaky sigh and a slight twitch of surprise. Attempting to right himself when ensnared by a goo monster was a difficult task when it _wasn’t_ actively probing him, and he instead opted to lean back against a nearby counter. For now, that would have to suffice. 

One of these provoked reactions was considerably more interesting than the other, and once again greed got the best of him as his own semi-fluid body cascaded down Victor’s unpleasantly chilled torso. Sex – or anything resembling it – in these biologically warped forms was foreign to them both, far more foreign than Basil alone cared to admit. Apart from the usual rush that came with literally squeezing the life from someone, carnal pleasure was not something he often found; and Victor’s reasoning was obvious, between the chromosomal disorder screwing with his hormones and his lack of real time. There was nary a pretty way to state that he finally slipped himself down those briefs, some appendages neatly skirting around the shaft of his dick to fondle his balls instead as others wrestled the underwear down. 

Damn Karlo, and damn this slow realization that he wasn’t as figuratively made of stone as he’d once thought; among just about everything else that had led up to this situation. He couldn’t stop himself from groaning at the sensation, touch-starved body trembling. It was rare he was aroused, and if he was being quite honest the onslaught he was about to receive wouldn’t make his habit of being too sensitive any less messy. He wouldn’t last given the decades of abstinence, and he knew it damn well. 

Was this an issue? No. At least, not in Basil’s mind. Any lovers of his were rare due to some combination of the serial murder and rampant narcissism on his part, but he was hardly one to judge other men for premature ejaculation. Sex was sex. Making love, provided you wanted to call it that (personally he didn’t much care), was making love, and it mattered little if at all how long or short a time it took. Why spare time for silly things like embarrassment? Artificial slick soon enough mixed with beads of the natural stuff, and here and there he’d spare a part of himself to suction on the head of Victor’s hardened cock; perking up at the moans that he was now hearing in greater frequency. Music to his ears, or lack thereof. 

It _did_ burn, but the ambient temperature worked well enough on dissipating the heat of their bodies, and at the moment it was difficult to focus on much of anything beyond the roiling sensation in his pelvic area. Subconsciously he leaned further into the touch, breaths shuddering as he secured an arm hold on the mass of barely-human flesh before him. And then, as if a bolt of lightning had struck him, a thought occurred; behind the thermal goggles, his too-blue eyes narrowed, and with his opposite hand he hooked a few fingers into the slots between Basil’s false ribs, working the malleable flesh there as best he could while occupied. 

“ _Ngh_. Bluejay, you little minx,” the former actor hissed as the central cluster of nerves remaining within him was pried apart little by little. Sure, it offered about as much sensation as a light slap across the arm would, but if someone worked at it enough…Well, the results were about what you’d expect. While this didn’t completely stop him from carrying on with pleasuring Victor, it _did_ give him pause.

“I,” he panted heavily, “do not believe I can reach far enough to make any notable difference, but this is a courtesy I intended to repay.” 

This was no trouble, and Basil answered him with a soothing rumble, upper body shaking with the effort. There was a comfortable silence between them then, broken only by the occasional moan as the tension inside Victor built. 

And suddenly things hit a peak. His vision blurred, and his knees gave out, but it wasn’t as if he’d been supporting himself with much other than the solid pile of flesh in front of him _anyway_. That at least kept him standing, but it was about the only thing that did. There was an unpleasant heat to his skin now, as if he’d been sat in front of a bonfire for too long. Still, being properly ensnared in Basil’s grip, movement was exceedingly difficult. 

He didn’t withdraw this time, but continued exploring the other’s lower body in as gentle a manner as he could. Touch was a language he could scarcely make sense of these days. It was frustrating, how something once so familiar had become so alien. _Too_ alien. The fact the transformation had seemed to mutate the lack of sensation in his limbs into something exponentially worse across the board pissed him off to no end, and it was more frustrating how this wasn’t anything he had a hope of controlling. 

Overstimulation was both an intriguing and a painful thing, Victor wouldn’t deny that. Still, he let Basil go on for a good chunk of time longer before calmly swatting at the offending tendrils with what little energy he had left. “ _Karlo_. It hurts.” He’d withdrawn his hand from Basil’s chest cavity, despite his earlier promise. Best not to let things get _too_ warm. 

As expected, he stopped, retracting now seminal fluid-covered appendages back toward the lower mass of his body; leaving the less covered bits to hold Victor upright as he hooked one of the chairs from behind him and pulled it closer to the two. “ _I do apologize_ , dear. Take a chair?” 

He was still panting heavily, but he took a moment to readjust his undergarments to the best of his ability before ungracefully collapsing onto the provided seat. “ _I_ should apologize,” he managed to get out. 

“ _You_ ,” he grumbled, pointedly jabbing him in the nose with a clawed hand he’d reformed from nothing, “are always more concerned with others than you are yourself. It’s nonsense; I was happy to provide, and I can damn well take care of myself should I ever have the desire to.” 

Victor flinched at the impact, but didn’t move back. “…Thank you.”

He raised a soiled tentacle up to his jaws. “ _Shhh_. I do love it when you talk; but not now, hmm? Recuperate a little. You know where I’ll be if you need me for anything.” Which, seeing as he didn’t particularly intend on moving either, would be right there. 

There was a distinctly real possibility that age was catching up with them both, Victor reflected absentmindedly as he stared in Basil’s direction. In however small a manner. It was something that interested him, something that would have to be scrutinized and picked apart in the name of curiosity. But that would have to happen later. There were many things he wanted to accomplish, and so little time in the day…This alone had in no way helped matters, but it had been a nice distraction. 

Obviously, the putty-like metahuman puddled on the tiled floor had thought so as well.


End file.
